Life is an X-File
by TexasDex
Summary: The year is 1998. The town of Arcadia Bay is destroyed in a freak storm. Mulder and Scully are sent to investigate.
1. Anomaly

A red metal roof sheltered the First Sunriver Bank from the persistent rain, and tall windows let in what little light there was to be found on such a dreary day. Worn spots in the linoleum hinted at busier times, but there were few patrons in the branch today, standing quietly at teller windows or waiting for loans. They ignored eachother and the yellow cone that warned them of the wet floor, because that cone was always there.

Two young women walked in with expressions to match the weather. No umbrellas or raincoats, just spots of water on their shoulders and jeans. The shorter one, with mousy brown, shoulder-length hair and a ratty gray hooded sweatshirt, carried a coffee can full of coins and looked around for the counting machine without a word. The taller one, with short blonde hair and few tattoos peeking out from under her flannel shirt, glanced anxiously at the others in the branch and fidgeted.

The security guard at the entrance had little better to do than to turn his balding head and give them a closer look. _Nervous, but harmless. Probably some high school chicks cashing in their parents piggy bank to buy weed or something._ He watched them walk past the row of bulletproof teller windows, past the reinforced security door that led to the private offices and back rooms, where stacks of cash were counted and banded.

Quarters clattered into the machine, and the blonde sat on it, legs kicking the side panel lightly. The brunette watched the numbers on the display counting slowly up. The security door opened to allow a teller out, and the blonde laid a gentle hand on the other girl's shoulder. The guard blinked and the brunette wasn't there. He squinted and rubbed his eyes a little, and looked around, and there she was again.

He shook his head. Nobody else reacted, and nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. _Need more sleep I guess._

The last of the coins finally ran through the machine. It spat out a receipt that was meant to be handed to a teller, but was stuffed hastily into the brunette's pocket instead as they shuffled uneasily toward the exit.

 _Huh. Maybe they're bringing the can in for somebody else._ He eyed them closely as they walked across the parking lot, unhurried in spite of the rain, and got into a rusted out pickup truck with a mismatched camper shell. _Can't arrest them just for acting suspicious,_ he thought as they drove off.

In the counting room, stacks of bill bundles with mustard-colored straps sat in a row, one stack shorter than the rest.

* * *

"Come on. We totally got away with it. Don't look so glum." The blond climbed into the driver's seat and grabbed a polaroid from the brunette's shaking hands. "Just like you promised. No going back." The reassurances didn't seem to help much, and the brunette's hands were still unsteady as she pulled three crisp bundles of hundred dollar bills out of her sleeve.

 _(Cue X-Files theme)_

* * *

"If you could have any kind of superpower, what would it be?"

He'd asked the moment Scully had stepped into the dingy office. She saw Mulder at his desk, which was covered with papers and photos, as well as unruly piles of comic books, with surprisingly few nudie mags poking out. "I assume we have a case?" she asked.

"Come on, what kind?"

Scully thought for a moment. "When I was a kid I thought about being invisible sometimes."

"Every teenage girl wishes for that. What about now?"

That question was harder. "I suppose I've always kind of wanted the ability to heal people. I mean, I already can, sort of; I _am_ a doctor. But, really heal them, you know. What about you?"

"Mind-reading maybe. Astral projection would be nice. Or just the usual flying, invincibility, x-ray vision sort of thing that Superman has going on."

"What about the case?"

Mulder reached for a small remote at the edge of the desk, and switched on a aging slide projector. The first slide was a picture of a picturesque coastal town, sandwiched by woods on one side and water on another, with a lighthouse in the background.

"What am I looking at?"

"Arcadia Bay, Oregon, home of about 5,000 residents, one prestigious college prep school, and... a bunch of fishermen."

"And Bigfoot?"

"Most credible Bigfoot sightings are actually a bit further north, in Washington. No, this is just a quiet town on the Oregon coast. Until..."

The slide machine chunked and an image of rubble that had once been buildings filled the screen.

"Four weeks ago an F-5 tornado started about two miles off the coast and made a beeline straight for the center of the town."

Another slide, of the charred rubble of an old diner. "Not much of it survived."

"That's not exactly tornado alley."

"The whole of Oregon gets about one or two per _decade_ , and most of them don't even register on the Fujita scale."

"What does this have to do with superpowers?"

"I'm getting to that. The tornado was preceded by several reports of _other_ strange meteorological phenomena, most of them unsubstantiated, but we do have this photo."

 _Clunk_.

"Two moons... what could cause that?"

"An optical illusion? Some kind of atmospheric lensing maybe? But there are also reports of mass die-offs of wildlife, and those are confirmed by the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife."

"That could be caused by some kind of pollution. Wouldn't the EPA be more suited to investigate? Or NOAA?"

"They couldn't explain it either."

"Well then how are we even going to start? Are there any clues we can look at? Any suspects?"

"Funny you should mention." A mousy girl with a brown bob cut appeared on the screen. "Maxine Caulfield. Typical Oregon teenager, student at Blackwell Academy, mediocre grades, but with a promising talent for photography. Or at least so the surviving teachers say. Most of the records were destroyed by the tornado, along with parts of the school, and, apparently, Maxine herself. They never found her body, but her parents reported her missing two days after the storm."

"If she's dead how does that help us? And what could she possibly have to do with the weather?"

"Bear with me. After the tornado the weather anomalies stopped, until a few days later in Seattle, which had a high of 104 degrees Fahrenheit on October 11."

"That's unseasonable."

"It's record-breaking. Half a dozen people died of heat stroke."

"I'm still not seeing a connection to this dead girl."

"Well, last Thursday she showed up in Sunriver, Oregon, robbing a local bank."

"So she's not dead. Just in jail."

"Neither."

"You're telling me this teenage girl held up a bank and got away with it?"

"Not held up. She was seen on the surveillance tape _teleporting_ , the same day that thirty grand goes missing from their counting room."

"Teleporting?"

"One second she's there, the next she isn't, then she reappears."

"I'm sure it's just a glitch in the tape, some kind of interference or recording error."

"Nope. Everything else on the recording is perfectly seamless."

"Well I'd like to see that."

"We will. But the Portland field office already did a forensic examination of it, and declared it unaltered."

"Okay. But say you're right, and this girl really can..." Scully seemed to struggle to say the word. "...teleport. I still don't see what that has to do with the tornado."

"The night of the heist some amateur astronomers at the local observatory saw a beautiful and unprecedented meteor shower." A grainy slide of streaks across a bright starfield appeared. "Only trouble is, they weren't expecting one. Academics dismissed their report as a hoax, but I think it was right, and I think it was caused by this girl. I also think she was the source of a freak lightning storm a few days before, which caused a wildfire in Mount Hood National Forest."

"I heard about that. Could still just be a coincidence though, right?"

"Quite the coincidence, considering the heat wave was centered perfectly around this girl's home."

"Even if this girl somehow has a superpower, how does that connect with the freak weather?"

"Just call it a hunch." Mulder smiled. "And even if it doesn't, there's still a bank robbery to investigate. The local sheriff asked for FBI assistance on it, and as soon as Portland analyzed the tape they passed it right to the X-files office. Skinner handed this one to me directly."

"So we're going to Oregon. In November."

"Yep. Pack your good boots. And your swimsuit," Mulder added with a half-smile "You never know what the weather might do."


	2. Witnesses

Mulder's rental Buick found a spot in the lot of the low-slung tan office building that was the Bend Oregon FBI field office. Dark, featureless windows stared at them as they walked in.

They met with the case agent in a small office, weak beams of sunlight revealed specks of dust in the air, and reflected off of gray shelves full of file boxes.

"Yes, I'm agent Mulder and this is agent Scully."

"Agent Melendez." She was a short, stiff-looking woman with dark hair in a tight braided bun. "I was told you're the ones looking into the Sunriver bank incident?"

Scully nodded.

"I admit, I can't explain it." A TV with a faux-wood cabinet sat on a flimsy cart sat in the corner. She placed a tape into the VCR and hit fast-forward; bands of static appeared on the screen until the tape was in the right spot.

"Okay, there's Maxine. Wait, who's the other girl?"

"We haven't identified her yet. I looked through the records for the other missing students, but none of them was a match."

"Did you check her against the rest of the town?"

"The National Guard sent me-"

"Wait. See that?" Mulder took the controls and rewound a few seconds to show them. "The blonde is in on it. She's waiting for that door to open, then the hand is a signal. Right there. Then she disappears and... back." He held up his wristwatch and went back again. "Point seven eight seconds. That's long enough to grab a handful of cash."

"So she just teleported into the back room?" Scully asked.

Mulder grunted skeptically. "It's possible, maybe, but I don't think so. Inhuman speed or freezing time is a much more logical explanation."

Agent Melendez blinked. This was obviously some new use of the word 'logical' that she wasn't familiar with.

"See, they have to wait for somebody to open the door. A teleporter could just appear on the other side."

Mulder finally allowed the tape to play further, and they got a good look at the girls' faces as they departed.

Mulder paused the tape again just before the they left the frame. "See her tissue? A nosebleed is a common side-effect of powerful psychic or telepathic effort." Melendez sighed audibly, Scully couldn't tell if Mulder didn't notice, or was just pretending not to.

Scully looked at the faces on the screen. "They look so sad, like they don't want to be there."

Agent Melendez interjected, frustrated. "Sad or not, she's the prime suspect in a major felony. So unless you two have some kind of explanation that won't get me laughed out of the chief's office, I have some paperwork to get to."

"Okay. See if you can identify the second girl from Arcadia Bay DMV records. We'll go talk to the security guard who witnessed it."

* * *

"Yeah, I remember 'em. Freaks lost me three days of work before I could clear my name."

Scully responded skeptically. "You seem pretty certain that it was them."

"Everything seemed off about 'em. Not really the type to be in this kinda bank for starters. All nervous, fidgety, like they were up to no good. Didn't say a word to each other the whole time. Not like normal teens. Girls their age come in here usually I gotta tell them to pipe down. Couldn't prove anything though. I mean, I can't just go arresting every customer who looks at me funny. Kept a close eye on 'em though, especially after the girl pulled her little disappearing act.

"And," he finished with what he felt was a particular insight, "when they left, they just _walked_ to the truck. Normal people, they hurry a bit to stay dry but these two go across the lot like... somebody just died."

Mulder pressed. "But you didn't report anything until after the money was found missing."

"First I figured I was just seein' things, but soon as I heard that I had the manager rewind right to that part of the tape and there it was."

"How do you think they did it?" Scully asked.

"I got no clue. I mean, unless superhero comics are real, right? And she just runs back there like The Flash. Or maybe Nightcrawler."

"You said that they got into a rusty tan pickup truck," Mulder prompted.

"Yeah, they put down everything I could remember in the report."

"I read it but I have a few more questions. Do you recall which of them got in the drivers seat?"

"Oh. Well I guess it was the blond, since I saw her get in, and the truck was parked facing out. They were in the furthest spot. Also kinda weird 'cause of the rain."

"Did you get a license number?"

"Didn't think to. I mean, how was I supposed to know?"

"That's okay, you've been plenty helpful. Scully? Call Melendez and tell her to check DMV records for all of Arcadia Bay for a truck or owner matching that description."

"You gonna figure out who they are? Arrest 'em?"

Mulder chuckled. "You saw the tape. Would you want to be stuck proving this to a jury?"

* * *

"The other girl is one Chloe Price, high school dropout and longtime resident of Arcadia Bay. The pickup is registered in her name." Scully turned her laptop around on the cheap motel table to show Mulder the license photo. The girl in the photo had more piercings, fewer tattoos, and hair dyed a striking blue but it was unmistakably the girl in the tape.

"Parents are Joyce Price and William Price. Were. Mr. Price died five years ago in a car accident and Mrs. Price was killed in the tornado. Step-parent David Madsen, former security officer of Blackwell Academy."

Mulder read the screen. "Brief criminal record, loitering, a few calls about domestic disturbances, public intoxication, and a shocking number of parking tickets. Dropped out of high school after a poor showing at Blackwell Academy." He looked back at the photo. "Bit of a rebel."

"Sounds like she's had a rough life," Scully countered. "We should probably talk to the stepfather."

"Mr. Madsen, veteran of both Iraq and Afghanistan, recognized for heroism for his response to the tornado, and was just sworn in as an officer of the Newburg PD." Mulder pulled up the file and planned the next day's trip.

* * *

"Hello Officer Madsen? I'm agent Fox Mulder and this is agent Dana Scully with the FBI. We'd like to talk to you about your daughter."

David Madsen opened the door further to reveal an orderly, but nearly bare, apartment; there was a single bed made to military standards, a few instant meals next to the stove, and a few uniforms hanging in the closet. The only concession to aesthetics was a single family photo on the dresser, a beaming couple with a surly teenager in the background.

"You mean my stepdaughter, Chloe? She's not in trouble, is she?"

Mulder glanced at Scully and she spoke. "We just have some questions for her; we were wondering if you had any way to contact her."

David shook his head. "I haven't seen her since before the tornado. Last I heard from her she was going off who-knows-where. That was right after I was on the TV news, so I guess about a week after everything."

Mulder held up the school photo. "Do you know a Maxine Caulfield?"

"Max? She was a friend of Chloe's, back when William was still alive. Moved to Seattle, then came back to go to Blackwell. They hung out a whole lot that last week, but then... we never found her body after the storm."

"What was their relationship like?"

"I didn't know them back when. First I know of it, Max bursts out of the closet and tries to take the blame for Chloe's... mess. Then they're inseparable. All week, getting into trouble looking for Chloe's missing friend. Found her even. Never imagined it, but they were quite the team. Closer 'n I ever seen a pair of teenage girls. All 'together forever'. I imagine Chloe's real broken up. I mean, she never even got over her father, and that was five years ago."

Another question, from Mulder this time: "What were you on TV for?"

"Rescue effort. Looking for survivors in the wreckage."

"For Chloe?"

David nodded. "And Joyce-my wife-but they found her pretty quick. Gas explosion." His voice faltered slightly. "They said she didn't suffer."

"Chloe... well... whole week I thought she must be dead, but then I get this voicemail." He pulled a tiny cassette out of his breast pocket and showed it to the agents.

Mulder pulled out his pocket recorder and opened the cassette door. "May I?"

David nodded.

A shaky voice leapt from the device. "David? This is Chloe. I saw you helping on the news. I'm glad you're okay. I thought you at least deserve to know that I'm not dead. But I'm not coming back. I hope you understand why. Please don't try to find me. Goodbye."

"Why isn't she coming back?" Scully wanted to know.

"I was never really a good father to her. Didn't know how to talk to her. Raised voice and my hand to her more 'n I should've. She always wanted to leave this town anyways. Talked about moving to LA with her girlfriend. Now that Joyce is dead there's nothing here for her anymore."

"What about the friend they found?"

David gave them a puzzled look, then realized what they meant. "Rachel Amber? They found her _dead_. Buried in the junkyard. Figured out who did it too, all by 'emselves."

"They solved a murder?" Scully said incredulously. "How?"

"They were kinda cagey about that, but they came to me with this crazy tale about students getting drugged and it turns out to be true. Every single word of it. Left to raid the guy's dungeon and that's the last I saw of either of them."

Something dawned on him. "Wait, if you're not here about Rachel what's the FBI want with Chloe?"

Scully dodged the question. "We think she may have witnessed an incident in central Oregon last week. I'm afraid I we can't discuss the details right now."

David's eyes narrowed, but he nodded in acceptance.

"There were reports of strange weather the week before the tornado. Can you confirm any of that?"

"Wouldn't believe it if I didn't see it with my own eyes. Snow in early October, two moons, beached whales... nothing made sense."

"Did you see anything else that week that you couldn't explain?"

"No, I..." He paused in thought.

"Maybe something about Maxine or Chloe?"

"I never did figure out how she got up on that roof so fast. Ran past her trying to get there and then when I do she's already there and talkin' Kate down from the ledge. Proud o' her for that, but thought I was seein' things."

"You mean this girl Kate was suicidal?" Scully asked.

"Yeah. Havin' an awful time of it. And I wasn't helpin'. Just Max. Probably better she got there before me, or... who knows."

Mulder, of course, steered the conversation back in his favorite direction. "Would you say what she did was impossible?"

"Well, there is another way up through the boys entrance but she would've had to run crazy fast to beat me. I still get under twelve on the two mile."

"Do you mind if I keep this?" agent Mulder asked, holding up his recorder.

"I... maybe I could give you a copy? I want to... she didn't usually call me David."

* * *

"Are you even trying to solve the bank robbery anymore?" Scully asked as she closed the door on the poor, dirt-caked Buick. "Or just the weird weather? We've been driving around Mount Hood Forest for two days now with nothing to show for it."

Mulder walked toward the ranger's Jeep, and Scully shuffled quickly to catch up with him. "Can't I be trying to solve both?" He waved the folder at Scully. "I'm just looking for the suspects here."

"Based on a _huge_ leap in logic. You're seeing a connection between them and that lightning storm that doesn't exist, and we're wasting our time."

"Don't you like the great outdoors?"

Mulder introduced them in his usual well-practiced manner and held out the photos to the umpteenth park ranger today. This one was short and pretty, with wavy, shoulder-length hair and a round face.

"Yeah, I recognize them. Mostly the truck though. Saw that ugly thing every time I made my rounds at Trillium. They were at campsite 45 for like two weeks end of last month. They're okay, right?"

"We just need to ask them a few questions. Did you ever talk to them?"

"Not much. They pretty much just kept to themselves. Weren't here for a vacation."

"What do you mean?"

"Most people come here, set up everything, start having fun on the first day and then after two weeks all they want to do is go home and sleep in their normal beds. This pair, they come and pay for a campsite and I don't even see a campfire for almost a week. Nothing but their truck on the pad, with them in the back. Then I finally see chairs and picnic stuff and food, and that night they're roasting marshmallows. Few nights later I go by and they're talking so loud I had to remind them it was quiet hours."

"Do you remember what they were talking about?"

"Watching movies or something I guess. Must have been funny ones by the sound of it. Something about beans. The girl with blue hair had the other one in her lap. Made a pretty cute couple."

"Couple?" Scully raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I don't like to assume, but..."

"You think they were romantically involved?"

"Well I said I try not to assume, but those two were cuddlier than any friends _I_ ever had at that age. Kinda reminded me of my youngest just before she came out. I did my best to make them feel safe if they were. Put a little poster up about safe spaces at the bathrooms, equals sign sticker on my truck, that sort of thing. Everything short of putting up rainbow flags all over really.

"Hope you find them." she added. "They're okay right?"

Mulder returned a puzzled look.

"Aren't you asking about them because they're missing? I mean, they just up and disappeared two days before their checkout. Left their chairs and stove and a whole pile of firewood too. Figured something was wrong, got kinda worried, especially after Matthew Shephard last month. Even if I did get a free camp stove out of it."

"What day was that?"

"That was the night before the lightning storm, so 27th. We were all pretty busy after that."

"So I understand. Big fire, right?"

"Two at first. Then they merged and made one big one."

"Thank you, Officer..." Mulder looked at the silver nametag on her lapel. "...Greenbriar. You've been a huge help."


	3. Pursuit

Officer Cassie Lorenz could tell how far East she'd traveled just by looking at the trees. As the cascades turn into foothills and valleys the trees also shrink, from the giant hemlocks and maples to shorter ponderosas and junipers. Dense forest turns into arid plains, which is where Officer Lorenz spotted them.

"Wait a second..." It was parked as from the rest stop bathrooms as possible, out where the pavement turned to gravel. Brown pickup, mismatched camper cover. That alone was distinct enough, but just to be certain she grabbed the radio handset. "Echo 14, Dispatch?"

The radio squaked to life "Go ahead."

"Can I get a nine on the BOLO for the pickup?"

"That's two females in a tan 1972 Ford F100 pickup with blue shell, license plate Tango Whiskey November Papa Kilo Sierra, wanted for questioning in connection with the Sunriver bank robbery. Break"

The plate was too far away to read, but the rest matched exactly. "Go ahead."

"One suspect Chloe Price, nineteen, five foot ten, short blonde hair, other suspect Maxine Caulfield, eighteen, five foot three, shoulder-length brunette."

She smiled to herself slightly at the idea that the two teenage girls she was looking at could have robbed a bank of thirty thousand dollars, and put her squad car into gear.

"Echo 14, Spotted suspects in north lot at Sage Hen Rest Stop. Approaching."

"Copy."

Her smile evaporated as she approached. The two girls waited by their pickup and watched her intently, in a way that her years of instincts translated to danger. The taller suspect-that would be Price-stood against the driver's door trying to look more relaxed than she actually was, and the other-Caulfield-leaned over the hood, her head resting on one arm, but the other arm tucked behind her back.

"Dispatch, Echo 14, suspects may be armed."

She filtered out the radio's terse response and pulled the Crown Victoria off the pavement, to the sound of gravel crackling beneath the car's tires and a twig snapping.

As if on cue, the two girls jumped into the car, and Chloe cranked the engine.

The officer leapt from the car, weapon drawn, and shouted orders. "Out of the vehicle NOW!" The blond ignored her and kept trying to start the pickup. As soon as the engine came to life it screeched out of the parking lot in a spray of gravel, leaving the officer to run back toward her squad car. But the car didn't look right. The front had dipped down, and as the sounds of the pickup receded she could finally hear the hiss of air escaping the front tire.

She cursed loudly and holstered her weapon. Standing there, hands on hips, she noticed another thing that wasn't right: her belt. She checked the gun, taser, radio, ha-. Her hand rested on an inexplicably empty handcuff pouch. It had been full just minutes before. She swore again.

"Echo 14. Suspects heading east on US 20 from Sage Hen. Cannot pursue."

In the pickup, Max's shoulders heaved heavily. A few drops of blood ran down her upper lip and she reached for a fast food napkin to stem it, revealing the silver glint of a cuff around her wrist.

* * *

The living room reminded Scully strongly of her mother's house. Kate Marsh rose from a floral patterned couch and introduced herself. Behind her, the wall displayed a crucifix and a series of family photos, interspersed with the occasional bible quote. Scully didn't want to look again, but she was pretty sure there was more than one Virgin Mary figurine on the table behind her. A bit much, even for her mother's sense of taste.

Kate didn't seem entirely comfortable in the room. She kept eyeing the doors to the other room, and seized on Scully's suggestion that they go for a walk. There were no sidewalks, and hardly any other finished houses nearby; the Marshes lived at the end of a cul-de-sac that was dotted with new foundations and frames sprouting from ground that used to be too dry to grow houses.

"Looks like it's going to be a nice neighborhood," Scully said, over the distant sounds of hammering and sawing.

"It's my aunt's house. She's very kind to let us stay with her."

"Your home was destroyed by the tornado?"

"Yes. We were lucky though. Everyone was visiting me at the hospital when it hit. I still have what matters."

Mulder, ever tactful, jumped right to the question at the front of his mind: "Could you tell me about Maxine Caulfield?"

"Max was my closest friend at Blackwell. I wouldn't be here if not for her."

Kate spoke of sharing tea with Max every week, of her unwavering support as Kate was bullied over a scandalous videotape (which she refused to describe), and of her words during Kate's darkest moment. "I couldn't have asked for a better friend."

"Is there anything that Maxine did that you couldn't explain?"

Scully glared at him. He'd already tried to ask Kate another variation of 'did you notice any superpowers', and Kate had already given no indication that she'd seen anything supernatural.

"Nothing. It all makes perfect sense. God sent her to me on that roof to save me. I don't know why He took her from us, but I know I need to live up to her memory." A tremor began to creep into her voice. "She was my closest friend."

Mulder and Scully shared an uncomfortable glance. 'Actually she's alive and robbing banks' was too insensitive even for Mulder to say, although he was thinking it.

Fortunately, Mulder's phone chose that exact moment to ring, and as he answered it Scully took the opportunity to ask a carefully-worded question. "When was the last time you talked to her?"

With Mulder diverted their conversation was pleasant. Kate talked about flowers and healing, and the pastor's suspiciously unseasonal sermon about redemption and rebirth.

Kate showed Scully a sketchbook of drawings and illustrations, colorful animals and landscapes, punctuated by a few vivid but mostly abstract charcoal sketches. Scully's compliments were genuine. "Yes, I suppose I do have a talent for it. I've sent them to a bunch of publishers of children's books but I haven't heard anything back yet."

Mulder snapped his phone shut and interrupted. "Scully, you're not going to believe this." He hardly concealed his glee at the news. "She made the sun go out."

* * *

Scully rolled down her window as they sat by the highway. The air outside was cool but sitting in the morning sun was getting to be uncomfortable. Of all the boring, indistinguishable spots to park alongside this highway, Mulder had chosen... one of them. She lamented her now-doomed weekend plans and kept her eye out for the suspects.

Mulder reread the police report with barely-contained excitement. "They left a rusty nail right where the squad car was going to park. Held it in position with bubble gum. That has _got_ to be planned."

"But how on earth could they have put it right in the path of the tire? Unless they put nails everywhere."

"Nope. I think she knew, somehow."

"'Knew'? You mean some kind of precognizance?"

"Maybe."

"That plus teleporting and super speed. And however she accomplished the missing handcuffs, since you seem pretty sure that was her too. Quite the list of powers."

"I'm not sure that's it. I keep getting a feeling there's something I'm missing. A simpler theory."

"One that doesn't involve comic book characters?"

"Not _that_ simple."

"And I assume you're going to tell me that her powers caused the sun to disappear in yesterday?"

"They have top meteorologists flying in from all over the country, and they still can't explain it. It's right where she used her powers on Officer Lorenz. The sun set at 2pm in Hines, just ten minutes later, and it's almost noon and still dark there."

"Let's assume all this is true. How on earth would we even catch someone like that? She's already gotten away from a bank security guard and a police officer."

"I have a plan, actually."

"Really."

"I do. The first step is to meet them and see what she can do."

"And how do you know that they're going to go down this particular highway?"

"I just took a look at their route and made a few guesses."

"Such as?"

"Well for starters, every time we hear from them they're further Southwest. But more importantly, if you had this kind of power and needed money fast, where would you go first?"

It only took a second for Scully to extend the line in her mind to the answer. "Vegas."

"But...?"

"They're still teenagers, the gambling age in Nevada is 21."

"And...?"

Scully hesitated, and eventually Mulder answered for her. "If they cause a disaster there, right in the middle of the Vegas strip, thousands of people could die."

"You still really believe-"

Scully interrupted herself mid sentence. "That's them." Sure enough, an extremely ugly pickup was cruising down the road, at exactly the speed limit. Mulder reached up to flick on the temporary police light and gave chase.

It continued down the road for almost a minute before pulling over near some bushes.

Mulder pulled up behind, and the two agents approached the pickup. He heard the steady idling of his rental car stop behind him, and he turned to see Max, sitting in the driver's seat for a split second before she disappeared. Then the pickup gunned it's engine, and left them in a cloud of dust.

They ran to their car to give chase, but as the doors closed Mulder's hand grasped air where the keys should have been hanging.

They shared a look. "You saw that right?" Mulder asked. "She was here, for just a split second."

"I saw someone. Could have been her, maybe. Whoever it was, they just disappeared."

"And took the keys with them." Mulder watched as the pickup became a speck that vanished in the distance, then noticed a small white piece of paper, folded and tucked in the windshield wiper. The door opened, he reached out and picked it up. A small black pen with a silver band in the middle fell out as it unfolded.

"""  
Agents Mulder and Scully:  
I never meant to hurt anyone. I don't want you to get hurt either. I threw your keys in the bushes. Please don't try and follow us any further. It'll just cause more disasters.

P.S. It's "Max". Never "Maxine"  
"""

"This confirms it." Mulder showed Scully the note. "She _is_ causing them." A large bug smacked against the windshield.

"At least _she_ seems to think so. The note doesn't actually prove it."

"Maybe not, but she somehow knew our names. How could she know that? And look at this pen." Mulder held it up to Scully. "Notice anything special about it?"

"I've seen hundreds of them, exactly the same."

"Because you work in a government office. These are manufactured by blind people for the General Services Agency. Not sold in stores."

"Where could she have gotten it then?"

Mulder paused, then patted his jacket pocket. He stuck his hand it to search it more thoroughly, but still came up empty. "From me."

"So she's a teleporting precognizant with super speed _and_ magical pick-pocketing skills? Is there even a _superhero_ with that many powers?"

"Telepathy too maybe. And no, not many. Maybe a few supervillans." Mulder left the seat and started walking slowly toward the bushes to look for his keys.

Scully followed. "What about the disasters? Anything about that in the comic books?"

"Not so much. It seems like it's caused by using her powers, almost like some kind of cosmic backlash." Mulder shooed a grasshopper off his tie and looked up. He saw in the distance an odd black haze, covering the landscape and slowly approaching.

Scully saw it too. "What on earth?"

"I think we need to find those keys _right now_."

They hurried towards the bushes, and had almost arrived there when the swarm hit. The roar of the bugs was difficult to hear over, and they had to shield their faces to keep them out of their eyes.

Mulder scrambled to find the keys before the ground was completely covered. "Locusts!"

"Can't be!" Scully said as she joined him in kneeling. Further conversation was drowned out by a the insects chirping around them.

The clump of bushes was thankfully small, and after a few minutes Mulder saw the glint of his keys amongst the locusts. They rushed back toward the rental, shaking off as many of them as possible before diving in the doors. A handful of hitch-hikers made it in on their clothing, providing Scully with a sample to examine.

"This isn't possible. The last species of locust in North America went extinct a century ago."

"Aren't locusts just a grasshopper in it's swarming phase?"

"Yes, but none of the species on the continent go into that phase. The Rocky Mountain Locust was the last one, and it's been dead since 1902. I'd need an expert to identify this definitively, but it doesn't look like a species I recognize."

"Darkness, and an impossible plague of locusts..."

Something from Scully's Sunday school education bubbled up in the back of her mind. "They covered the face of the whole earth, so that the land was darkened."

"Sounds about right." Mulder smiled slightly as he put the car into gear and crawled off of the shoulder. "Think we should stock up on lamb's blood?"


	4. Encounter

The sparse vegetation that had dotted the Oregon landscape thinned further to full desert as Mulder and Scully left Oregon in their mirrors and crossed the border into Nevada.

The mismatched camper shell was easy enough to spot. Other than the thin stripe of pavement disappearing in both directions, the gas station they was parked at was the only evidence of civilization for dozens of miles. It stood a relic of the space era, but the swooping 'futuristic' facade had deteriorated long ago; now it was just a box that barely protected a cashier and a few racks of snacks from the sun's heat.

They pulled up behind the pickup at the only other pump. A layer of dirt was caked around the sides of the Buick clashing with the black paint, and the front was sprinkled liberally with insect guts, interrupted only by the paths of the windshield wipers. It was also running dangerously empty but that would be taken care of soon.

Opening their car doors allowed the muffled sounds of a car radio in, a barely-comprehensible woman's voice punctuated by a machine-gun snare drum; a track neither of the agents recognized.

"Remember. Whatever we do, we're not trying to arrest them. Just talk."

"I don't see why you think this will work."

"I have a theory."

"Care to share it with me?"

"We tend to think of ourselves as living in three dimensions, up/down, left/right, forward/backward. People never think fourth-dimensionally."

"You could have just said 'no'."

"Where's the fun in that?" Mulder knocked on the pickup window gently.

After a panicked bustling inside the music turned off, the passenger window opened a crack, and Max shouted at them through it. "I told you to stay away!"

"I will if you want me to, but I want to talk first. I promise, you can leave whenever you want. No handcuffs."

The faces behind the window blushed bright red.

"I didn't mean to take them, I swear," Max said, embarrassed.

"That was a pretty impressive trick though. That and my keys. Not every day you meet a girl who can teleport."

"That's not what- ug." Chloe's elbow cut Max off before she revealed anything further.

Chloe's voice came from the driver's seat. "Shit Max. Just go back."

"No. I've got this. If we give them a chance maybe they'll stop following us. And if they try anything he'll never find his car keys again." She said the last part loudly for Mulder's benefit as she rolled the pickup window down further.

Mulder surpressed a grin. "I almost didn't the last time. Had to dig through a pile of locusts. Your doing I assume?"

"I can't control it."

"But it keeps happening. Every time you use your powers."

Max nodded.

Scully asked the obvious question: "Have you tried just... not using them?"

"I did. It worked for a little while, but..."

Chloe jumped into the conversation. "Some rednecks attacked us."

"What for?"

Max clasped Chloe's hand as she responded. "You know what we are."

Mulder played dumb. "No. What?"

"Bullshit!" Chloe shouted. "Lie one more time and we'll... crush your car into a tiny cube or... something."

Max gave Chloe and Mulder both annoyed looks and continued: "They saw us kiss and threatened to... 'fix' us." Even Mulder got the implication of that. Chloe looked horrified that she'd spoken of it.

"What about Seattle?" Mulder asked.

Max studied the dashboard and spoke quietly. "I didn't know that would happen. I thought... that the tornado was the last of it. Seven people died."

"Why?" Scully asked.

"I don't know! Weird stuff happens every time I... do stuff." Still careful not to give up too much.

Scully clarified: "I mean why did you go camping for two weeks instead of telling your parents you were okay? Everyone assumed you were dead."

"They didn't..." Max sighed. "They wouldn't accept us. They'd rather have me die in that storm than come out to them. So I let them think I did."

"And the bank?"

Max's eyes fell on the pile of empty fast food bags and cups at her feet.

Chloe spoke for her: "Look, we don't have to talk to you. There's no way you can prove we did anything."

"You're right. Oregon State Police already called off the hunt for you, actually. They said there wasn't enough evidence. I think they're looking into the bank employees again."

"Why the hell are you even here then?" Chloe asked.

Mulder answered without taking his eyes off of Max. "Because I know better. I've seen what you can do. And I want you to know that I'm watching."

"Well you can just fuck right off, Jiminy Cricket. We don't need you on our shoulder."

Max continued to act as if the empty Burger King wrappers covering the floor were the most interesting thing in the world.

The pump handle chose that moment to click off.

"We're outta here. Don't try and stop us."

"Don't worry, you're free to go."

Chloe jumped out of her door to remove the nozzle, and her gas cap clicked loudly as she jammed it back on.

Max leaned over and started to crank the window up as Chloe got back in the cab. "We've been through so much already. Please, we just wanna be left alone."

* * *

Chloe jammed the pickup into gear, kicking up gravel as she drove back onto the main road

"When the hell were you gonna tell me that?"

"Tell you what?"

"What they were gonna do to us?"

"Why do you care about that?"

"You promised. You said you'd tell me everything if you had to rewind. You're keeping stuff from me already."

"What? I... I didn't think it was that big a deal. I told you they attacked us. Just 'cause I didn't give you every awful detail..."

"It's a huge deal! You're manipulating me just like you did everyone else. Only telling me what you think I should know. And we left a bunch of would-be rapists alive and free. Now they're just gonna attack someone else who can't stop it."

"That's why you care? We robbed a bank Chloe. We're not heroes."

"We didn't hurt anybody. The bank'll get their money back from insurance. And we totally got away with it."

"They might not be able to prove it was us, but you heard him. He knows. The _FBI_ knows I have superpowers. I bet if I screw up again they'll dissect me or something. And what if I got some employee fired? I want the photo."

"No way. We're good. Shit's fine. We got the cash and the heat is off. The feds'll leave us alone. Just fucking relax already."

Chloe turned the stereo back on, cranked up the volume, and sped down the road as the music blasted out of the cab.

* * *

They watched a cloud of dust rise behind the pickup as it disappeared into the distance. Scully spoke first. "That worked. How did that work?"

"She doesn't want to use her powers. She said so in the note. So I didn't give her any reason to. No threats of arrest, no weapons."

"Did you at least get what you came for?"

"I did indeed."

"And?"

"I assume you noticed it? The slip in tense? The phrase 'go back'? My theory was right. She can manipulate the flow of time itself."

* * *

A lighter flared and illuminated Chloe's face, briefly showing her sour expression before plunging the scene back into darkness. She took a drag and blew smoke through her nostrils as her eyes slowly adjusted from the glare of the motel room to the moonlight. Folding her arms tightly did little to shield her from the desert night's chill, and her short leather jacket didn't help much either.

"Fucking..."

She leaned back against the driver's door, causing the pickup to rock slightly. Normally she had to be careful about that, but Max wasn't sleeping in the back this time. No, she wanted a fucking motel room. With fucking separate beds. "Fuck!" She cursed at no-one in particular.

Distant headlights illuminated the lot, and Chloe tensed momentarily when she saw the car they belonged to pull around the side of the motel, a blue and white topped with a light bar. She reminded herself the cops were called off and took another drag, but her calm evaporated as the lights pointed in her direction, and the siren chirped.

"Miss?" The voice from the loudspeaker was clearly directed at her. "Don't move. Please place your hands on the back of your head."

Chloe decided to keep her hands right where they were, thankyouverymuch. But before she even had time to say as much she heard the sounds of doors opening. She couldn't see much amidst the glare of the headlights, but the clicks of service pistols being aimed at her certainly sounded serious.

"What the fuck?"

"Hands on your head right now!"

Chloe spoke under her breath, "Fucking bastard lied to us," then shrieked at the top of her lungs, "Max!"

"Miss, just stay calm and put your hands-"

"MAX! There's no way you can't hear me Max! Wake the fuck up!"

"Miss, there's no need to-"

"Max?"

Max wasn't coming. Chloe stared into the headlights and raised her arms slowly, opening her hands to show they were empty. "Look. I'm unarmed. I'm just gonna turn around slow..." That at least got the guns off of her for the moment. She saw the motel door out of the corner of her eye and weighed the distance. _Worth a shot_. As soon as she was facing in the right direction she bolted for their room.

It might have been that she was out of shape, or that she'd looked a bit too hard at the door and tipped them off, but the cops were right behind her, and with twenty feet to go she felt a tug on one of her boots that sent her shoulder-first into the dirt. The other foot lashed out and connected with a face, eliciting a good satisfying crunch and a scream.

"MAX! Wake up!" One last try, then the police were on top of her. She heard a female voice reciting the familiar litany of Miranda as she tightened the cuffs on her. After getting so much practice with a hairpin on the real ones Max had acquired she was annoyed to realize this pair was plastic.

Chloe turned her head to finally get a look at the woman straddling her. "Jeez, at least buy me dinner first." That earned her a smack in the head with a long heavy flashlight, and everything went black.

* * *

Scully picked up her cell phone groggily from the hotel nightstand and flipped it open. Figures, she's halfway through a decent night's sleep, all ready to get on a plane home tomorrow morning, and _something_ comes up. She answered it with a simple "Hello?"

"No, don't..."

"No, that's inaccurate, and the search was called off."

"Well you can let her go, we don't need to talk to her anymore."

"No, do not attempt to apprehend Miss Caulfield."

"It jeopardizes our investigation" was the first lie Scully came up with. "Even continuing to hold the Price girl is a substantial risk." _Who knows what kind of disaster it could cause_.

"No, pull all your officers away from the motel. We'll go in and handle this."

* * *

After years of East-facing windows in her bedroom, Max woke up well later than she planned. She rubbed her eyes and looked over at the second bed. The green and purple patterned bedspread, which must have seemed like a good idea to some designer thirty years ago, was as ugly as ever but still perfectly made. Chloe must have been more angry than she'd realized.

Finally dressed and washed, and no longer needing privacy, she opened the yellowing sheer and surveyed the mountains in the distance. There was literally nothing else to look at but that and the clouds, and a black sedan in the corner of the parking lot and _oh god not again_. On the other hand, maybe Chloe will finally give her the damned photo now.

She rushed to the pickup to wake up her partner, giving the black car glances over her shoulder.

"She's not here." Mulder's voice called out to her from the car.

Max didn't stop till she got to the truck's tailgate and saw that it was indeed empty. She shouted back. "Where is she?" Her demand felt small against the wide open desert behind her. "What did you do?"

"The Nevada Police didn't get the message," Mulder answered. "They arrested her last night." He lowered his voice as he approached her. "We told them you're no longer suspects, but she's still being held for breaking the arresting officer's jaw."

A smile flickered across Max's face, out of view of the agents behind her. It quickly vanished, and she turned to face them. "I need to talk to her. I'll tell you whatever you want to know if you take me there."

The tone of her voice made Scully nervous. "How can we trust that you won't try to break her out by teleporting?"

Mulder apparently saw fit to finally explain his theory. "It's not teleporting. She can rewind time. Isn't that right Maxine?"

"Not Maxine. And yes. Like a big undo button for the universe. I reach over and spill my soda, I can just hold up my hand and boom, it never happened. I say something to make someone angry, I try again and say something else instead. Shoot and miss, I just rewind and try a bit to the left. Anything bad happens, I can go back and fix it.

"At least that's what I used it for at first. Make friends. Solve mysteries. Didn't realize what else it was doing until the tornado hit.

"It looks like I teleport cause I stay in place while I rewind. If I walk that way for ten seconds and then rewind ten seconds, suddenly I'm over there."

"What about the pen?" Scully asked.

"Stuff stays with me too. I pick something up and rewind, it stays in my pocket-even if I go past when I grabbed it. So..." She held up her wrists unsteadily. "If you put handcuffs on me, I can't get out of them."

Mulder didn't seem to think they were necessary. "No need. We're just giving a girl a lift to visit a friend, right?"

Scully wasn't sold. "What about the bank? Are you forgetting these girls stole thirty thousand dollars last week?"

Max suddenly found the gravel between them fascinating.

"I'm sure it'll turn up somewhere. Right Max?"

She nodded without a word.

* * *

The ride to the station was spent largely in silence. Questions directed at the girl in the back seat were answered with as few words and as little eye contact as possible.

Yes, her parents literally said they wished she was dead when she came out. Of course she rewound that.

No, she can only go back a few minutes at most.

Yeah. She used her power to save Kate's life. Barely.

No, she had no idea where it came from or why.

No, she didn't get bombarded by radiation or fall in a vat of chemicals. Just saw Chloe get shot.

No, she hasn't read any X-men. Or Spiderman.

Great power, great responsibility. Sure, she'll remember that.


	5. Reveal

"Bitch doesn't get visitors. She broke Arnold's fucking jaw."

Max stood behind the two agents and took in the room. It had everything she'd come to expect of a small-town law enforcement office from years of watching police dramas, from the overhead fans and cheap flourescent lights dotting the drop ceiling, down to the blue and white checkered linoleum floors. Behind the main window, past glass panels reinforced with wire, the bullpen was dotted with gray metal desks, each built to withstand a nuclear bomb rather than the phone and pile of papers that they carried now. Most were unoccupied.

"I wouldn't consider this a social visit. I still need to talk to her regarding an investigation."

"Not what you said on the phone."

Scully clarified: "I said she's not a suspect, but we still need to question her."

"I know your type. Sending us local boys on wild goose chases then sweeping in and getting all the credit while we take the hits. You don't have jurisdiction here. You don't even have an official BOLO anymore."

"Look, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way." Mulder's eyes met Max's briefly, and she realized that the 'hard way' he was referring to wouldn't involve lawyers.

 _Is he encouraging me?_ The area was sparsely populated, and the disasters hadn't killed anyone since Seattle. And she really wanted to talk to Chloe again in person.

The officer scoffed at Mulder's threat. "You want to make a fuss about it? Be my guest. Maybe, _maybe_ the Sargent'll give the okay for you two but no way she's letting some teenager into an interrogation room. 'specially not the suspect's bestie."

Then again, all she actually needed was the photo. Whatever she'd say, whatever apologies she could offer, it'd all go away anyways. But asking them to get the photo would mean more questions, about the one part of her power she hadn't admitted to. And what if they decided to destroy it instead?

She looked back at the room. Instead of feeling like it was out of a TV show, it now reminded her of a video game she'd played once with friends in Seattle. Entrance here, doors there, objective over there. Chloe would be in the back somewhere. Options and paths branched out before her, and as the front desk officer spat out a final rejection and Mulder sent a wink in her direction she seized on one.

The door from the lobby to the bullpen was closed. She ran to it, ignoring the officer's shouted objections, and found it unlocked. It was easy to slip in, and rewind before he confronted her. Now hidden behind the door, she heard confusion and accusations caused by her sudden disappearance, but those wouldn't last either. She picked out a path toward what must be the holding area and ran it, rewinding every few seconds. The officers in the bullpen jumped up from their desks to stop her, then sat down and returned to their paperwork, over and over again.

Finally safe in a hallway on the far side, and nowhere near exhaustion yet, she took stock of her new surroundings. Two sturdy metal doors lined one side, and the bars of a holding cell made up the other side of the hall. Emergency exit at the end.

Chloe wasn't behind the bars, they must have put her in one of the interrogation rooms. Nothing nearby was heavy enough to break down the doors and see. And she'd have to be careful: One wrong rewind and she'd end up trapped in there with her. The guards were too close to get Chloe all the way out without rewinding anyways, if she made that much of a racket. She needed another path.

Then one offered itself to her. A cop walked past the end of the hallway, his well-populated keyring jingled slightly as it hung from his belt. Rewinding a little to get the timing right, it was just a matter of grabbing them and going back. But they slipped her grasp. The guard shouted from behind her, and it was all she could to to run back into the hallway and rewind again for another shot.

This time she grabbed the keys hard, and barely rewound before the officer's fist connected with her face. But again, the keyring disappeared from her grasp as she went back. _I need to take it off of his belt first._ That should do it.

On the third try she yanked the keys hard, and the snap that held them to his belt popped open, but a short chain kept them affixed to him, and apparently that was enough to keep them with him as a knee connected to her ribcage and she went back again.

Just like things she carried, bruises also stayed with her, and her side ached as she planned the next attempt. She probably needed about five seconds to get the keys off the belt, and there was no way she'd survive attacking him for that long without incapacitating him first.

The hallway was empty of anything to use as a club, and Max was already starting to feel exhausted from the rewinds, as well as winded from the officer's blow. Back in the bullpen an officer's utility belt sat on one of the desks, the firearm conspicuously unsecured. Run there, grab it, rewind, run back, rewind. Easy enough.

"Hey! Stop!" Officers shouted as she lunged for the pistol. Rewinding kept them at a safe distance, and gave her enough time to dash back to the safety of the hallway before putting things back. Time was, ironically precious, and her disappearance at the entryway continued to draw surprised shouts and the threat of reinforcements every time she restored time's normal flow, but she took a second to appreciate how it must have looked from their side. Some high school girl disappears from the front and appears at Officer Rodriguez's desk grabbing for his gun. Then they're both gone altogether.

Another second and he'd be appearing around the hall. She assumed the kind of stance she'd seen in cop shows and _click_. She found the safety and tried again. The report startled her, and her shot hit his shoulder. If anything, that would make getting the keys harder, so she rewound yet again. She hesitated the third time, afraid of what she was about to do, but it wouldn't last, wouldn't matter, and she pointed her weapon at the base of his skull and pulled the trigger.

One more try to get the aim dead on, then she was at his belt, grabbing at his keys before he even hit the floor. The snap was easy to undo, the chain less so, but she finally managed, and jumped up to rewind back to safety as she clutched her new acquisition.

Except she couldn't. Her arm, in fact her whole body, was suddenly frozen, and on fire, and as she careened face-first toward the floor even the instinct to put her hands out and break her fall didn't work.

* * *

Max came to and found herself handcuffed to a table in a bare green room. An interrogation room right out of _Homicide_ or _Law and Order_ , but she was actually in this one, and then she remembered why.

The feds had clearly been paying attention when she told them how to make sure she couldn't escape, but it didn't even matter. She wasn't going to try either way. There was only one way she'd be getting out of this. Only one way she even wanted to.

It took her a second to realize whose blood was on her shirt. She hadn't touched the guard's head, so it must be her own. More than the usual nosebleed, but she soon recalled the reason for that too, and leaned forward to gingerly touch her broken nose. Apparently leaning forwards was also a bad idea, and her back made sure she knew it.

The door groaned deeply as it opened, as if to emphasize it's weight. The two faces walking in were familiar by now, but she couldn't look them in the eyes.

Mulder's opening didn't help. "Officer Katz was declared dead at the scene."

Not that she was surprised, she'd tried several times to make sure her shot hit dead-center.

"I didn't even see his face. Just a uniform with a set of keys and a target on the back of his skull. It was almost easy."

"You were going to rewind him back to life once you got the keys."

Max confirmed with a nod.

"You can do anything you like and just go back and it never happened. I can only imagine what living like that would feel like. No consequences, no mistakes." That was the kind of speech Chloe had given her more than once, but this one was delivered with quiet sympathy rather than excitement. "It must suck the meaning right out of life."

Max nodded. "It was cool at first. I could get out of trouble. Be the perfect friend. Fix everything.

"Four days in, I've spent so much time being whatever gets the best results that I don't even recognize myself. I got myself invited to a party I didn't even like. I threw a guy's breakfast on the floor just to watch his reaction before I rewound. He was a jerk but..."

"But you were starting to doubt you were any better?"

"When I go back nobody remembers what I did. But I do. Apparently I'm the kind of person who'd stand by while my friend beat a kid half to death. Or just fuck with people for my own amusement. Even if I rewind it away, I _did_ that."

"I think the kind of person you are depends on the reality you choose to live in. Normal people make a choice once and hope for the best, but they're stuck with the results. You get to use trial and error."

"And I'm choosing to live in a reality where I murdered a man?"

"Of course not. You were out for over thirty minutes. You can't go back that far, otherwise you already would have. You just made a mistake. The courts won't see it that way, but I don't think you're a bad person, and I want to help. Besides, I'd hate to see what havoc you'd cause trying to escape again."

"I don't deserve your help. But I can still save him, make things right. I need you to get me something." She disappeared into her thoughts for a second, then emerged with a correction. "Two things, actually."

* * *

Chloe sat with feet up on the interrogation table, arms crossed as best she could in handcuffs, slouched in her chair. She stared at the far corner of the featureless cinderblock room and didn't even bother looking towards the door as it opened. "I got nothing to say to you pigs."

She sat upright when she recognized Scully's voice. "That's okay, we weren't planning on asking you anything. Maxine just wanted a photo from you. She said you'd know why."

"Tell her to figure something else out. I can handle it. I've been arrested before." The tough exterior she'd shown at the gas station was starting to crumble.

"She already tried 'something else'. You heard that gunshot a bit ago?"

She had.

"We're holding her in the other interrogation room right now for murdering a police officer. We made sure she can't use her rewind to escape."

The last vestiges of her facade melted away. "She'd do anything for me wouldn't she. And I just keep screwing up and making her fix it."

Scully had to prompt her again. "The photo?"

Chloe complied without a word. The handcuffs made it difficult but she managed to twist her body enough to pull a polaroid out of her jeans pocket.

Scully looked at it and wondered what the big deal was. It framed the two girls in the ratty cab of their pickup, backed by scrawling and doodles on the upholstery. Max's arm extended off the frame to hold the camera while they looked into the lens. A curious technique. It was bent and wrinkled, and the corners were folded in from its tenure in her pocket, but now Chloe handed it to Mulder with a surprising amount of care.

"You promise you'll give this to her?"

"Of course. You know, Max is a sweet kid, but love can make us do stupid-"

"Don't bother with the lecture. It won't matter anyways."

"I know."

Chloe sank back into her chair. "I pushed her into this. It's all my fault. I don't know why she still cares for me when I keep fucking things up like this. Please just tell her I'm sorry."

* * *

"Found: Orange tuxedo cat under bench on corner of Lay and Aiken streets."

"Pet rat for sale, tame, playful, $40 OBO."

So said the final few dregs of the classifieds, which spilled onto the last page of the newspaper Mulder had borrowed from a desk in the bullpen. Reading it in handcuffs was clearly a challenge, but Max seemed to eventually find the article she wanted, reading it intently while Mulder observed her just as closely.

She laid the newspaper down as gently as her restraints allowed, and choked out a question: "Were there any... other consequences?"

"Well, my car was just swallowed by a huge sinkhole." He grinned a little. "Could be worse. I could have had to wash it before I returned it."

"Please don't joke. I killed someone."

"You're going to undo it though, right?"

"I can't undo the disasters I caused."

"Okay. Just thought I'd lighten the mood."

The door swung open and admitted Agent Scully, carrying the photo.

"Let me see it."

"First you're going to explain why you want it so bad."

"You said what matters is the timeline I choose to stay in right? Well... what if I could have chosen a reality where I never got this power, and the storm never killed all those people. What does that say about me?"

"Why did you choose that?" Mulder asked.

Scully provided the answer that Max wouldn't: "Chloe." Max confirmed with the slightest nod. "The first thing you did with your rewind was save her life."

"I could've saved the whole town. That would've been the right thing to do. I spent a whole week trying to help people with my powers, but when it really mattered I choose her over everyone in Arcadia Bay."

"There were plenty of survivors you know," Scully said. "Mr. Madsen managed to get most of the students to the fallout shelter under the dorms. And your friend Kate was lucky enough to still be at the hospital when it hit."

Max's voice brightened briefly. "She's alive?"

"We talked to her at her aunt's house in Bend. You couldn't have saved her without your powers either. She's pretty broken up about losing her best friend though."

"Two people. How many died in the storm?"

"I don't think it's important to focus on the number of-"

"How many?!" After that outburst Max quieted down. "I actually don't know."

"The death toll was 316. 315, since you're not really dead."

"So over three hundred people died so I could keep my girlfriend."

"I thought you said you couldn't stop the disasters."

"There's something I didn't tell you. I can look at a photo and go back to that moment in time. I just have a minute or two, but I can change the past and wake up in a new timeline. There was a photo of the moment I saved Chloe, the moment I first felt these powers. I was watching the tornado destroy the town and I knew I had to use it to stop it and let her die, but I didn't, because I wasn't strong enough. I was just selfish."

"You know not every philosopher would agree with you."

A quiet, confused, "What?" was all Max could summon in response.

"It's called the Trolley Problem. Ever heard of it?"

She hadn't.

"The gist of it is, an out-of-control trolley is going to kill five people stuck on the tracks. You have the chance switch it to a different track that only has one person stuck on it."

Max winced at the scenario at first, but shook it off. "You have to flip the switch, right? That's the moral choice."

"Well, some philosophers argue that killing a person is always wrong, even if it saves other lives. Imagine if we lived in a world like that, where anyone could be killed for the greater good. Ethics aside, not a lot of people would do it if the person on the second track was somebody close to them. It's only natural to hold on to people we love, and I don't think any less of you for it."

"What if she volunteered?"

"It wouldn't be the first time she'd tried to kill herself," Scully answered.

"Wait, you mean...?" Apparently Max hadn't heard about that either.

"The police were called to the Price household more than once."

"It figures. She gets pissed at me for keeping secrets and..."

"She said she's sorry for pushing you into this."

"Can I look at the photo now? My wrists are starting to hurt."

"I don't see why not. How does it work exactly?"

"I just go change the past, and it'll be like none of this ever happened."

Mulder looked at Scully, then back at Max, and held up the photo for her to see. He felt it tingle strangely in his hands, and voices echoed in his ears as the world went out of focus.

* * *

A flash filled Mulder's vision, and dissipated to reveal Max and Chloe, sitting in the graffiti-filled cab of their pickup and staring at him, just as in the photo. The cut on Chloe's forehead was gone, and Max's nose wasn't broken. His field of vision was a perfect square, somewhat grainy. Max lifted him and set him on the dashboard with a clunk.

Max's face lit up with joy and she threw herself at Chloe, taking her by surprise.

"Woah. I love you too, girl." She returned the hug, and hid her look of disappointment from Max. "How long?"

"Eleven days."

"What went wrong?"

"I got caught on the security camera. Just disappeared for half a second but this one agent figured it out." She talked as if Mulder wasn't there in the car with them.

"Just from you missing for a second on a security tape?"

"He was investigating all the freak weather I was causing. There were shooting stars after the bank. They were actually really pretty, but they tipped him off somehow. Then I caused a swarm of locusts, and this one town had the sun go out for a few days."

"You're not fucking with me to get out of this, are you Max-on?"

"Seriously, he was from the FBI and totally obsessed with supernatural stuff."

"FBI? We got the feds? Awesome!"

"Not awesome. It was really scary. Cops were after us. I managed to escape a few times, but then they arrested you on a smoke break while I was sleeping. I couldn't... I had to turn myself in to find you."

"Okay. Well then we'll pick one without security cameras. Easy, right?"

"No. I'm not doing it. I know we've been through a lot of shit but that doesn't excuse it."

"You got this power for a reason. You should be using it. Partners in crime?"

"Chloe, I killed somebody."

"We take that chance every time you rewind. And you're taking it again, coming through the photo. Why is that any different?"

"I mean I shot him. In the h-head. I was just gonna take his keys and rewind but then I got hit with a taser and I couldn't and... I don't want to go down this path. I won't."

"Fine. We tried I guess. But what are we gonna do now? Sell plasma? We have no cash, and barely enough in the tank to get to the next gas station."

Max's smile returned. "I figured out a better solution. Got a pen?"

Chloe stared.

"Of course you don't. Look, it's too important to try memorizing, just..." she dug in her pockets and then in her school bag on the floor for anything that could be used to write. There was a Rugrats pen right on top, and she grabbed it and started jotting down a series of digits into her palm.

"What's that?" Chloe demanded.

"A phone number I want to use when I get back. And lottery numbers. Next Friday's drawing."

Chloe's eyes went wide. "Sweet! How much?"

"I'd hate to spoil the surprise."

"Come on. Is it at least a half mil? Full million?" Max put on her best poker face and let Chloe continue. More?"

Max zipped her lips dramatically and smiled-while still keeping them tightly shut.

"You're evil. You know that right?"

"Totally." She poked the taller girl in the side, and plastered a wicked grin on her face.

Red spots appeared, and the corners of Mulder's vision began to curl inward, replaced with black and orange fringes.

"What's gotten into you?"

Mulder could barely catch Max's answer as the scene faded to black:

"Nothing. Just remember this: In eleven days I'm going to come back and remember that you're super into handcuffs..."

* * *

The next thing Mulder knew, he was leaning over an autopsy table, looking at the empty body cavity of what used to be a short and portly middle-aged man.

Scully's familiar voice serenaded him "...wasn't till I got to the major organs that I started to wonder about the original cause of death. The liver is enlarged consistent with the advanced alcoholism, but I didn't find any of the scarring that you..." She saw his vacant look and paused. "Mulder?"

He shook his head to try and clear it. "Sorry, go on."

"Were you even listening?"

"What day is it?"

Scully stared at him. "What? It's the ninth. Anyways the lack of cirrhosis meant that I needed to check his circulatory-"

Mulder interrupted. "Hold on. Can we pretend for a second that I don't remember anything since the end of October?"

"And why would we want to do that?"

"Because I don't remember anything since the end of October?"

Words failed Scully.

"It's a long story. I'll tell you later. For now, just catch me up with this." He gestured toward the corpse.

She described an odd series of illnesses in a small town in the Florida panhandle, but had hardly gotten to the part where the third victims' eyes popped out before Mulder's cell phone rang. The area code was 541. He didn't recognize the number.

He flipped it open and answered. "Maxine?"

"Max. Never Maxine."

(End)

* * *

Author's Notes:

Thanks for reading! There's a slight chance I might eventually decide to do a small epilogue of newspaper articles, but that's it for now (not sure how to mark a fic as 'complete' here). Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!


	6. Epilogue

I said I'd do it and I finally did! An epilogue of newspaper clippings that provide some hints as to what Max and Chloe have been up to. It's kind of sappy but I had fun with it, and I hope you guys enjoy it as well.

I even converted it to full newspaper-styled images; FFN goes to insane lengths to keep me from linking to them, but you can visit imgur album /a/ufyXo for the full effect.

Text-only version:

 **Nevada Dispatch** , November 9, 1998

 **Town Hit by Earthquake**

The town of Winnemucca, approximately 350 miles north of Las Vegas and home to nearly 8000 residents, was hit by a magnitude 6 earthquake Monday evening, causing widespread damage to structures and a few minor injuries but no fatalities. The quake toppled shelves, cracked walls, and caused two small fires that destroyed three homes and burned for several hours before being extinguished by the Winnemucca Fire Department.

Estimates for damage were not yet available, but will likely climb into the millions, with several nearby bridges and water retention structures in need of repair.

Dr. Kestrel Halbert of the United States Geological Survey commented on the atypical nature of the earthquake in a press conference held the following day: "We can confirm that the quake was unusually localized. Nearby seismometers registered much less movement that would be expected for a quake this size, but two sensors in the town itself registered a 6.1 on the Moment Magnitude Scale, and that is consistent with the eyewitness accounts and damage observed. The USGS is currently investigating the topology of the region to determine the cause of this anomaly."

Local resident Wilhelm Katz reported shaking that terrified his pets and cracked his chimney. "I was just getting off duty when I feel this rumble. Like I was on a wobbly scaffold or something. Duke-that's my lab-started barkin' up a storm and runnin' around the house like he was chasin' a ghost. Nobody's hurt, that's the important thing, but I'm gonna have to hire a mason to fix my fireplace."

Several churches and municipal buildings, including the sheriff's office, also reported cracked masonry, and the bell in St. Paul's Catholic Church rang loudly in time with the shaking.

Residents are advised that events planned for the Winemucca National Guard Armory Building are canceled until further notice due to structural damages. Additionally...  
CONTINUED ON BACK PAGE

* * *

 **Winning Lottery Ticket Sold in Sunriver**

A $26 million jackpot, building since early September, finally found a winner tonight in a ticket purchased at a convenience store in Sunriver Oregon. The winner or winners have not yet been announced pending official verification, however the cashier who sold the ticket said he believed the buyers were a pair of teenage girls.

James Manuel, long-time owner and sole employee of the "Corner Market" on the corner of Century and Solar Drive, recalled the two clearly. "How could I forget 'em?" he told the Chronicle early on Saturday. "I mean, most of my lottery customers play random or buy the same number every week, but this pair... They came outta nowhere, bought a box of blue hair dye and a single ticket with those exact numbers, and pay for it all in coins out of a coffee can. Now, I know, paying for lotto tickets with loose change makes it all sound pretty sad, but they sure weren't! The small one kept apologizing for the coins and giggling, and the blonde was already deciding what kind of RV she was gonna buy with the prize."  
CONTINUED ON A4

* * *

 **MISSING STUDENT FOUND IN NEARBY TOWN** , Tuesday, November 10, 1998

Residents of Arcadia bay, devastated by a tornado last month, got some much-needed good news this Monday: Maxine 'Max' Caulfield, former Arcadia Bay resident and recent student of Blackwell Academy, assumed to have died in the storm that claimed 315 other lives, turned up alive and unharmed in Bend, Oregon where she'd been staying with childhood friend and now girlfriend Chloe Price, another Arcadia Bay resident.

"It was just a big misunderstanding I guess," Price said when asked about the reason for the disappearance. "We left a voicemail at my mom's work to tell her we're safe, but we didn't realize how bad things were. And I guess the voicemail we left at her parents' house didn't record right or something." Price was not among the reported missing.

Caulfield's parents, Ryan and Vanessa of Seattle, declined to talk to the Newtown Herald.

Former classmate and friend Kate Marsh spoke to the Herald about her joy on learning Maxine was still alive: "She's my closest friend. I was devastated when I saw her name on the list, but I never stopped praying for a miracle, and the Lord delivered. Right to my door step." (End of clipping)

* * *

 **Baltimore Sun** , September 8, 2001

 **Secretive FBI Raid on Local Motel Leaves Residents Guessing**

Laurel residents were surprised early Monday morning by a flurry of law enforcement activity, including a SWAT raid on the Valencia Motel on Route 1.

The raid concluded successfully, with the arrest of five suspects and no casualties, according to Terrence Hall, a spokesperson for the FBI. In a prepared statement, Hall said that the raid was part of a "national security investigation" but provided no further details about the suspects or their motivations, and did not take press questions.

Jack Smalls, owner of a nearby pawn shop, described the scene: "There were tons of black vans and trucks and everything in my parking lot, and the north half of One was blocked off until 9AM. It was a huge mess, and there are still a bunch of broken windows and doors where they went in. Must've been some really bad people in there."

Other eyewitnesses reported several men being detained. The motel owner declined to comment. (End of page)

* * *

 **Arcadia Bay Newsletter**

 **First gay wedding in Arcadia Bay**

After over two decades of friendship and love, loss and windfall, sadness and joy together, Arcadia Bay's most prominent couple has tied the knot! Max Caulfield and Chloe Price, a pair well known to Arcadia Bay residents, celebrated their sixteen year romance in a quiet marriage ceremony at Lighthouse Point last Friday, surrounded by family and friends, including yours truly. Their union is the first LGBT wedding in Arcadia Bay since Judge McShane's historic decision this Monday to legalize gay marriage.

I had a chance to speak to them as they stood at the counter in City Hall, anxiously awaiting the decision that could finally let them make official the relationship they had been in since High School.

"I've been waiting for this so long," Max said while leaning against Chloe at the clerks counter. "It's hard to believe it might actually happen now."

Chloe was more confident: "It's totally happening. They're gonna give us a license, 'cause they know if they don't I'm jump in there and beat it outta them. Then we're gonna go home and f-" Her sentence was thankfully cut short by Max's elbow.

It hasn't all been rainbows and butterflies for them. The tornado that took the lives of so many of our neighbors came hardly a week after they reunited, and claimed the life of Chloe's mother Joyce as well as her childhood house. Caulfield's parents, initially unaccepting of their relationship, withdrew their support, leaving them homeless and heartbroken as everyone began to rebuild.

"I don't know how I would have gotten through it all without her," Max said of Chloe. "When the whole world was against us she was my rock; the one thing I could cling to.

"We had a lot of grief, a lot of survivor's guilt. And I was pretty f-ed up even before the tornado," Chloe added. "But for some crazy reason she never stopped believing I was actually worth saving. Shrink might've helped a bit too."

Then just when things seemed darkest, a miracle landed in their lap. "We bought the lottery ticket on a lark. I know it was kinda stupid when we barely had a place to sleep, but I had a good feeling about it."

The feeling was justified, and three days later the two were multi-millionaires. But, not content to retire in luxury, the two put their windfall to work rebuilding Arcadia Bay, donating much of their sudden fortune to recovery and charity efforts.

With the help of their winnings they managed to survive the past 16 years with their limbs (and lives) intact, in spite of penchant for attracting disaster. Their RV was hit by a tornado while camping in a remote region of the Nevada desert in 2001, and in 2004 their Christmas in Montana was interrupted by a freak blizzard that dropped six feet of snow on their cabin, trapping them for over a week.

But their spirits never wavered, and after college they had great success; Max with a career in photography that continues to climb (End of Page)


End file.
